Title: Worthless
Fandom: Final Fantasy: Advent Children
Characters: Cloud, Tifa, Marlene, Denzel
Prompt: 022 - Enemies
Word Count: 848
Date finished: 06/01/2006
Rating: G
Summary: Cloud's feelings some time before the beginning of Advent Children.
Author's Notes: I wrote this after I read "The Case of Denzel" - how Denzel wound up living with them. The sad thing was, there was nothing there to show why he had such a case of hero-worship for Cloud. This doesn't, either.
Disclaimer: Characters are owned by Square Enix and Sony Pictures as far as I know.

It was easy to live in a world with enemies. They got you up, got you moving, kept you on your toes.

But without them?

Life was much harder. Finding a reason to live, a reason to keep going…

Especially when you were certain you weren't worth much.

Cloud Strife sat on his motorcycle on the bluff overlooking Edge, the city that had come from the ruins of Midgar, in most cases quite literally. He was close enough to Zack's Buster sword to reach out and touch it, but he didn't, preferring to leave the grave marker for his friend (had they really been friends?) where it was.

The church where he lived was behind the growing city, in the ruins, and his presence kept it from being cannibalized too much. But he was never sure he was welcome.

Pain lanced through his arm, and he clutched at it, just below the ribbon he tied on his upper arm for Aerith, but didn't look at the bandage he'd tied around the sore that had appeared mere months after the incident with Meteor. It was growing; the bandage he had wasn't enough any more. And he'd seen how the children who had the sore were treated; his business was fledgling enough that he couldn't afford people to see that he had it, too.

His phone rang. Moving his arm was hard, but he got it anyway, flipping it open. "Yeah."

"You've got a delivery." Tifa's voice caressed his ear. "To Kalm. She said it was important."

"Where do I pick it up?"

"Here," Tifa said. "She left it and the address."

"I'll be there in a bit."

Cloud closed the phone and tucked it into the holder on his bike; it was easier to reach, and didn't hurt his arm. He was no good to anyone. He couldn't even fight off a disease no one seemed to understand.

He had a length of cloth at the church; he could make a sleeve that would keep people from asking. That would work until he couldn't ride any more. Given a direction, he started back for the church first.

The bike stayed outside. It was quick work to whip together a sleeve onto his shirt, loose enough that it wouldn't constrict any movement, especially if he had to use his sword. He left the church and was surprised to find a boy collapsed next to the bike, phone in his hand, Tifa's voice on the other end. "Hello?"

The sore on the boy's forehead was familiar. Cloud picked up the phone. "Tifa?"

"Cloud! Who was that?"

"I don't know. He collapsed. He's young, looks only a little older than Marlene."

"Bring him here. Do you know what's wrong?"

Cloud sighed. "It's the stigma. He's got it on his forehead."

Her voice hardened. "Definitely bring him here, then."

"Be right there."

He tucked the phone into the holder on his hip and gathered the boy up. It would be awkward on the bike, but he managed it, going as slow as he could without tipping them both onto the street.

Tifa met him in front of her bar, Marlene with her, both looking anxious. Cloud put the kickstand down and dismounted. "Where should I put him?" he asked.

"Upstairs, in Marlene's room. There are two beds there."

"I'll show you," Marlene said quickly, and went inside. Cloud followed, keeping himself from grimacing as his arm throbbed again. He lay the boy down on the bed just as he stirred, and Cloud straightened slowly.

"What's your name?" he asked the child.

The boy sat up, looking around. "Denzel," he said. "Who are you?"

"Cloud," he answered. "This is Marlene. Where are your parents?"

He was not prepared for the answer. "They died when the plate collapsed."

Zack's memories were still there, even if muted now, but child's quiet acceptance still hurt. "I'm sorry."

The boy's shoulders shrugged. "It's been a while."

Cloud backed away. He hadn't been involved, hadn't even been in Midgar when it happened. "Tifa says you can stay here for a while," he said. "She's a good friend; she'll take care of you."

Denzel moved as if to reach to grab his hand. "Where are you going?"

"I… have to go. I have packages to deliver." Well, one, he thought.

"You'll come back?"

That had him in a quandary. "Probably." He didn't want to give this child a definite answer; he didn't want to create another tie to him that would break a heart when the Geostigma finally wore him down.

Because it would. He was lucky that it had attacked his left arm, not his right, or he'd be in real trouble already; he still had to use the sword to defend himself. Monsters lived out there, where he had to travel.

"I'll see you then?"

The amount of hope on the child's face was almost enough to break his own heart. "Probably." He couldn't, wouldn't, refused….

But it was too late. To this child, at least, he wasn't worthless.

He spun and fled before it got worse.

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